


Peter's In A Snit

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Established Relationship, Full Shift Werewolves, Insomnia, M/M, Polyamory, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Werewolf Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 11:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: After Chris takes the bite, he can't sleep, and he insists Peter stay awake and keep him company.It's a problem.Luckily, Stiles has a solution.





	Peter's In A Snit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRidcully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRidcully/gifts).



> Happy Birthday! A little something for MrsRidcully who requested Chris as an energetic new wolf who acts like an overgrown pup.  
> Somehow it turned into this.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

 

It’s not a hard choice. When Chris comes home from the doctors, pale faced and clutching a piece of paper that would normally be a death sentence, the first thing he asks Peter is “Can the bite cure it?”

Peter reads the paper, tears it in half, and casts the pieces away with a small smile. “Yes.”

“Then I want it. If it’ll fix this, I’ll take the bite.”

Peter lets out a small sigh of relief, and so does Stiles. They hadn’t been sure if Chris would be able to bring himself to become a ‘were, if the diagnosis came back the way Peter expected it to. “We’ll do it tonight,” Peter says. “What about you, Stiles? Sure you won’t change your mind? I could do a two for one offer,” He cocks an eyebrow, offering, challenging.

Stiles almost looks like he’s considering it for a minute, but then he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just get Chris better.” They both pull Chris in for a hug, the three of them tangled around each other on the couch. They make an unlikely trio, but they don’t care.

They’re happy. Or they will be, once Chris takes the bite, once he’s well again.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris gets bitten, gets better.

More than that though, he gets far more lively _._

Even though they caught it early, thanks to Peter insisting that Chris smelled _wrong_ and needed to see a doctor, the disease had sapped a lot of the energy out of him, more than they’d realized. Now though? He bounces around the place, more energetic that Stiles on his worst day with no Adderall. 

And as for sleep? Well, he can’t sleep at all. And he's taken to waking Peter, insisting he run with him into the small hours of the morning, and then coming home flushed and excited, begging them both to make love to them.

It’s a problem.

 

* * *

  
  


“- a god damned inconsiderate thing to do!” The sound of the backdoor slamming and Peter shouting drags Stiles from his slumber, and his eyes flick to the bedside clock.

2.40 a.m.

Again.

Fuck.

“Aw baby, don’t be like that, I couldn’t resist. You were right there, and you didn’t even hear me coming, what was I supposed to do?”  Chris’s tone has a wheedling quality to it.

“That’s not the point. You’re an adult, and you should know better. I’m _drenched_ , Christopher! Absolutely drenched!” Peter snaps.

Stiles sighs and buries his head under the pillow, hoping against hope those two assholes he lives with will sort themselves out. But as expected, there’s the sound of footsteps approaching up the stairs, and the bedroom door swings open. Peter barges through to their ensuite naked, snarling, and yep, Stiles takes a peek, soaking wet.  Chris follows soon afterwards, also naked, but considerably drier. Peter shuts the bathroom door with a bang and there’s the sound of the shower starting up.  Chris hammers on the door. “If you didn’t want to get pounced on you shouldn’t have been balanced on the edge of that stream like that, is all I’m saying,” he calls out.

Stiles gives up, sitting up in bed and turning on the bedside lamp. “Don’t mind me,” he snaps. “I’m just the poor human trying to sleep. You two go right ahead and have your little wolfy wars, won’t you.”

Chris turns to him, looking apologetic. “Sorry, sweetheart. Peter’s in a snit.”

Stiles rubs a hand over his sleep weary features. “ _Peter’s in a snit_ ,” he repeats flatly. “What did you do this time?”

Stiles can see Chris trying to suppress a smile. “We were running, full shifted, and I managed to catch him off guard. He got a little damp, that’s all. His ego’s bruised.”

The bathroom door flies open, and Peter emerges, a towel round his waist, water still trickling down his chest. “That is _not_ all! He snuck up behind me, pushed me into the water, and then ran away snorting about it! It’s winter! It was freezing!” Peter waves a finger in Chris’s face. “I never should have given you the bite, I swear. You’re nothing more than an overgrown pup, and I refuse to tolerate it. Honestly, Christopher, you’re even worse than Cora was when she was young!”

Stiles expects Chris to snap back like he normally does, but the sheer frustration in Peter’s tone must seep in, because Chris goes quiet, and tilts his head to the side in submission.  “It’s not like I can help it,” Chris admits, almost too quietly for Stiles to hear. “The wolf, he takes over.”

Peter makes an annoyed sound, but he leans in and scents Chris, accepting the silent apology. “Try harder, pup,” he admonishes. “I know it’s new, but you can’t keep staying up all night and expecting us to keep up.”

“I’m trying! But it’s not that easy, when you’re not a born wolf! I feel like I’ll climb the walls if I don’t do something,” Chris huffs.

“You did climb the walls, last week,” Peter reminds him drily. “At midnight. The neighbors called and told me there was somebody on the roof. I had to lie and tell them we were looking for a leak.”

Chris sighs, a sheepish expression on his face.

Stiles looks at the pair of them, and groans. He sympathises with both sides, honestly. He gets it, that thrum of nervous energy under the skin that can’t be tamed, can’t be controlled. He’s been there.  But at the same time? This shit is exhausting. He hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in three weeks, since Chris was turned and became a literal creature of the night, the worst sort of insomniac, and started dragging Peter out to keep him company as he ran his energy off.  Stiles is only human. He’s done with this, and he’s sick of the pair of them bickering. An idea forms, and he hums.

“Peter’s right, Chris. We all need to get some rest.” Stiles says, thinking. “I think we need to reset your body clock. Absolutely wear you out, till you can barely move. Maybe then your wolf will get the idea that night time’s for sleeping and stop acting like an adolescent.”

Chris is on the bed next to Stiles in moments, kissing him passionately. “Yeah, baby? Gonna wear me out? Gonna take all night?” he purrs in Stiles’s ear when they break apart.

Stiles kisses him back before gently shoving him away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to wear you out, I promise. But for now, I have to get up in four hours, so could the pair of you _please, please_ get your furry butts back to bed?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. We’ll let you rest.” Peter finishes towelling his hair dry and slides into one side of the bed, and Chris gets under the blankets on the other. They turn out the lights and lay there, and Stiles drifts off to sleep. He studiously ignores the way Chris’s erection is nudging against his ass, because no. He’s way too tired for that. Just for once, Chris can do without.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris groans as he crawls into bed the next night, and Peter smirks at the sight. “Worn out, pup? Think you can sleep?” he asks, all mock concern.

“Fuck you, Hale. I didn’t know werewolves could hurt this much.” Chris hisses as he rolls over, wincing from the tenderness in his muscles. “You’re a damn slave driver, Stiles,” he grumbles."That wasn't how I saw myself spending the day."

Stiles grins from ear to ear. “Hey. I never _said_ we were having sex all day, you just assumed.  I just said I’d wear you out. And I mean, you’re tired, right? No need to go for a midnight run, no need to piss Peter off and wake me up, so what’s your problem?”

Chris raises a hand with the middle finger extended, and grumbles into the pillow. It’s barely a minute before the sound of soft snoring fills the air, and Stiles leans his head back against Peter’s chest and whispers, “Thank god.”

Peter rolls Stiles over, away from their sleeping partner, and kisses the top of his head. “You, sweetheart, are a genius. Tell me though, did your father actually want the roof replaced on his garage?”

Stiles nods sleepily. “Oh, yeah. He’s been planning it for ages, but he’s not as fit as he likes to think. So, when you mentioned Chris climbing on the roof, it occurred to me that he could actually do something useful with all that energy, and help Pops out at the same time.”

“There’s my clever boy, “Peter breathes out quietly. “And making him dig over the back yard and lay all new turf? Had your father been planning that as well?”

Stiles smirks. “Hell, no. That was just payback for keeping me up at night. And I mean, it worked, right? He’s out like a light.”

Peter laughs softly. “Would we be terrible if we wake him at midnight just to tell him we’re not tired?”

Stiles eyes light up. “Let’s do it.”

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Питер в гневе](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421503) by [writreader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writreader/pseuds/writreader)




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